


Stranger Than Fiction

by Weisse_Rose



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, M/M, Post-His Last Vow, Post-Season/Series 03, Random & Short, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 02:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1840477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weisse_Rose/pseuds/Weisse_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short & sweet conversation between John and Sherlock, taking place after HLV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger Than Fiction

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, the characters are not mine. The dialogue is mostly stolen from Stranger than Fiction (2006). In other words, I did jack shit. Couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a title. Enjoy it anyway.

John opened the door of his new flat on the third chime of the door bell. Well, their flat. Everything was _theirs_ nowadays. 

In front of him stood Sherlock Holmes, a big crate in hand, thoroughly soaked by the afternoon rain. John raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I wanted to give you this.”

The eyebrow stayed firmly in place. 

The crate had several bottles in it, the top was covered with soaked cardboard. 

John’s first thought was dangerous chemicals. Possibly explosives.

“What is it?” 

“Milk.”

“What?”

“I brought you milk.”

John stared at Sherlock, unblinking. Sherlock Holmes, standing in front of his door, having purchased a crate of milk. For him. 

“Wait, did you carry that all the way here?”

“John, I’ve been odd. I know I’ve been odd, but I brought this for you because … I want you.”

The second eyebrow shot up to join the first. “Excuse me?”

“I want you.”

“You want me?”

“In no uncertain terms.”

“Sherlock … I’m married. We’re expecting a child, for God’s sake.”

“Yes, I know, but I don’t care.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you.”

John thought that this one was high up on the list of weirdest conversations of his life. Probably right next to the one about his wife being a serial killer. He gave Sherlock a long contemplating stare. Then he reached a decision.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

John reveled for a moment in the dumbfounded expression on Sherlock’s face. 

“Yes. Okay. Come in. Come in, you stupid git, before you catch your death out here in the rain with your crate of milk.”


End file.
